


Parties In Gotham Never Go Well

by Caustic_Corgi



Series: Nightwing Whump [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Feels, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Dick Grayson is Not Okay, Food Poisoning, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Todd Deserves Happiness, Jason Todd Feels, Jason Todd Has Feelings, Jason Todd Has a Heart, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Medical Inaccuracies, Mild Blood, Poison, Poisoning, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Wayne Gala (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29212875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caustic_Corgi/pseuds/Caustic_Corgi
Summary: Jason is bored and Dick doesn’t feel too good. If you’re a member of the Wayne family, fancy parties are common, extremely dull, and sometimes dangerous.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Nightwing Whump [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144790
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160





	Parties In Gotham Never Go Well

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to post something.

Jason wanted to throw something. He really wanted to throw something, like he would anything to get the man in front for him to close his damn mouth. Listening to the man jabber on and on about some mind numbing new project and seeing his disgusting mouth just flap was infuriating. It was so tempting to just shove some fancy hors d’oeuvres into his trap, so incredibly tempting. Alfred wouldn’t like that though.

Jason could handle a few parties and having to deal with conceited elitists, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy it. He really wanted to go back to the Wayne Manor, but Bruce had been adamant that they all attend, for the whole time too. Being the "good" son he was, Jason wasn't going to leave unless his siblings all decided to leave with him. Recently, Jason had been trying to mend his relationship with his family and that meant going to these stupid parties. 

"Damn! At this point I would prefer the Joker to these pompous asses. At least then I'd have something to do... Guess I have to entertain myself," Jason muttered to himself, turning his back on the punchable man who had been trying to entertain him.

Glancing about, he caught the eye of Dick who standing alone in a corner playing on his phone and nibbling on something. Dick smiled and yawned dramatically. 'So he's bored too. Perfect.'

"Hey Dick! Come here! I want to show you something. Come on!" belted Jason, waving his arms about. He didn’t actually have anything to show Dick, he was just bored and wanted some company. It was also funny to see the old ladies glower at him for being loud.

Dick seemed to think it was funny too, because he loudly shouted back that he was coming over, exaggerating the heaviness of his steps in a goofy and loud manner. Way in the back of the ballroom, Jason could faintly see Tim muttering exasperatedly at their antics.

"Hey Dick! Look! The replacement is becoming more like these hags every way," snorted Jason, motioning to the closest clique of glaring grandmas who weren’t even trying to hide their contempt.

Dick rolled his eyes. "Do you want something or are you just bored?"

"Just bored. Thought that maybe we could make things more interesting. Liven things up a bit. Remember what we used to do at these kinds of events? Oh those were great times! B got so mad."

Dick laughed. "We are not pranking anybody! Alfred looked so disappointed last time!"

"Oh yeah! I forgot about that part. We could get Damian to it. He already wants to get in a fight." It was true. The little demon brat was eyeing the cutlery as they spoke.

"Don't encourage him."

"Come on! We could go over to those crones and—"

"Shh!" Dick covered Jason's mouth. Jason gagged in mock disgust at his touch.

"Don't want to offend the old ladies?"

"Yeah. Don't piss of Gertrude," Dick mumbled. He absentmindedly rubbed his chin.

"Oh?! What? Did she scare you last time?" Jason gasped in delight and clapped his hands together. "Oh my god! I remember! She's the one who—"

"Be quiet."

Jason grinned and shook his head. "You made her so mad that she shoved her price of cake in your face and then punched you! Oh, I love her so much! We should really get to know each other! Maybe you could do the honors of introducing us."

"Ugh. No way. My jaw still hurts and considering, our you know what business, that means something."

"Yeah. She had a beautiful right hook."

"Not the way I would describe it."

"Perfect form. How old is she? One hundred? A thousand?"

"Like late-eighties. I don't know. I'm no good at ages."

"Damn. I’m not even sure if that’s possible, but, you know, Gotham grandmas.”

Dick rolled his eyes. "Wanna get some food or something? I already ate, but my feet are killing me. Let's find a table. Away from the old ladies preferably."

Jason's stomach growled in agreement and he realized that he had yet to eat. “Sure. Food is the only good thing about these parties."

"Don't grab the desserts though. They're disgusting. I ate a tart and almost threw up," warned Dick with a grimace.

"Seriously? Whatever. I can just ask Alfred for something when we get back. I'm still getting other food though."

"Yeah. I think the other stuff is good."

They walked over to a nearby table and pulled up two chairs. Dick sagged and groaned. "My legs are so tired. Mind grabbing me something?" Dick asked, his face growing pale and tired looking. 

"Sure. Night stuff catching up with you? Looks like you could use a pick-me-up or a nap. I'll get you whatever I don't want," said Jason, glancing his older brother up and down. He really looked exhausted. These kinds of parties would do that to a person though. Alfred would probably keep him from patrols until he was all rested up. "You don't look so good."

"Don't feel so good. I've been standing for over an hour with nothing to do. Just wish this thing was over already."

Jason sighed in agreement. "Same. What do you want?"

Dick didn't respond. He was apparently busy staring off into space.

Jason looked over his shoulder. Nothing particularly interesting was behind him. "See something?"

Dick just kept staring at nothing. His eyes looked glazed. After a moment, he snapped back to reality and shook his head to himself back to alertness.

"Huh? What'd ya say?" asked Dick, his voice wheezy.

Jason smirked before concern creeped into his smile. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Mmm. Uh-huh. Now shush." Dick buried his head in his arms. Through the gap from the crook of Dick's arm, Jason could clearly see how tightly Dick's teeth were clenched together.

Jason looked at Dick skeptically. "What's wrong?"

"Too loud... and bright all of a sudden."

"Migraine?" Despite how much he loved attention, large parties sometimes overwhelmed Dick and gave him pretty nasty headaches. They usually happened after he overworked himself on patrol, so more often then they should.

"Maybe."

Jason crouched down to Dick's eye level to get a better look. His forehead was covered in sweat. "Crap." Jason grabbed his brother's arm, which was cold and quivering.

"Are you sick? Want me to get you some ginger ale or something. I think I saw some in the back. That usually works. I can ask B if we can go. A migraine would be a wonderful excuse to leave," offered Jason. It really would be great to leave.

"Nah. Just let me nap for a bit." Dick pushed Jason's face away from his.

"Fine. If you're that tired," said Jason, resigning himself to watching Dick sleep and eat until it was time to leave. It wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway. “Anyway, I’m still getting food. Holler if you decide you want anything.”

When Jason returned with a plateful of sausages and a glass of ginger ale, Dick looked even worse than he had before. Tim had made his way over to their table and his countenance was marred with concern. "What's wrong with him?"

Jason shrugged before sitting back at the table, trying to look indifferent. "Don't know. Don't think he's feel too great though. Too many late nights plus this party probably. You know how he can get. Bratwurst?" he asked, shoving a fork in Dick's face.

Dick scrunched up his nose at the smell. He pushed the fork away and leaned against the table, forcing himself to stand. 

"Jay... Don't make some who's feeling bad smell food. You'll make him puke," criticized Tim, placing Jason's plate on a nearby table, away from Dick.

Jason ignored his little brother, just noticing how bad Dick really was. He was shaking a great deal and didn't look steady on his feet. A strong breeze could probably push him over.

"Woah. Hey, I think you need to sit back down."

Dick didn't sit back down, but he did lean against his chair, which was an improvement.

"Jason...Uh...I think I need some help," he slurred, motioning for his brother to come closer.

"Dick?"

"Hurts," he groaned, one hand in his stomach, the other holding his head. "Something's wrong. It's—I can't—burns..." His voice was weak and trembling, but the pure panic he was feeling was clearly audible.

"What is it?" Tim grabbed Dick's shoulder to keep him still and upright.

"Dunno. Bright and my stomach... I think I might've ate..." Dick trailed off and before the brothers had any time to react, he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Tim barely caught his shoulders, keeping him from banging his head against the granite floor.

Jason and Tim immediately dropped to the floor and cried out for help, beginning to search Dick for a visible sign of what was causing the problem. There were a plethora of symptoms to find, but the root cause was evasive.

“Didn’t know he was this sick,” Jason gulped, examining Dick’s ashen face.

“I don’t think he’s just sick Jay,” replied Tim. Jason had to agree.

Bruce took the two brothers by surprise when he popped up behind them."What happened?" he demanded gruffly, feeling his son's sweaty forehead and combing his fingers through Dick's hair. Bruce, who was always on the alert during a gala, had quickly rushed to Dick's side the moment he went down. Brucie had disappeared and had been replaced with a stone-faced, but still visibly worried father.

"Don’t know. He’s hot and struggling to breathe. He was sick earlier. Here, help me move him! Get out of the way! Someone get a doctor!" Jason ordered to the crowd behind him, taking Dick's limp frame from his father, which was difficult due to how much Dick was writhing. He carefully lowered his brother on the ground, eyes glued to his heaving chest. Each breath held back the incredible fear Jason felt. "Dick doesn't just collapse."

“Think. What was Dick doing? What caused this? What—” Bruce was interrupted by a horrible, horrible gasping noise. 

The world seemed to slow and fade into the background, leaving just Jason and his big brother and this desperate hope that everything will be fine and that this was just some freak occurrence. That wish was immediately trampled.

"Look!” Tim revealed his hand, which he had placed above Dick's mouth to check his breathing. His palm covered with lots of little red speckles. 

‘It’s blood,’ Jason realized with horror. "Shit!” Jason moved quickly, pushing Tim out of the way and propping Dick up to a sitting position so he didn’t choke. "Come on, you're not dying today... Not today."

Dick let out a moan in protest to bring jostled so much. He opened his eyes and looked up blearily, his eyes glassy. "Not gonna die, don't worry." It was a poor attempt at a laugh and came out more like a hacking cough.

"Stop being so dense. I'm not worried. If you're dead then I'll have no one to annoy Bruce with." There’s his lump in Jason’s throat and it’s hard to speak. Dick can't know he's scared. He can't see his brother vulnerable like this. 'I'm not the one coughing up blood,' Jason mused guiltily.

Someone touched something and Dick screwed his eyes shut again in agony. His back arched off of the ground and he gave out a pitiful cry.

“Damian should be back with help soon.” That was Bruce. “Jason. I need you to focus. Can you do that? You were with him before Tim and I were. Tell me what was Dick like.”

Jason looks up. Everyone is staring at him, looking for answers. “Uh—um—he was really pale. He complained about the lights and noise. I thought it was a migraine. Um. He was tired. His stomach! Something was wrong with his stomach! He said that something was burning. He also said something about something he ate and...” Jason stopped. ‘Idiot! I’m such an idiot!’

“And? What else?”

"When’re the doctors coming?!”

“Jason! What else?”

"I think he’s been poisoned."

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!  
> I’m tired and probably need to edit this, but did you like it?  
> Should I add more?


End file.
